Lost & Found.

I need to wake up from my slumber,
this coma has robbed me of progress.
I am drunk and high although I’m sober,
floating through life, like I'm in a bubble.

Ready to move on now,
but my feet refuse to touch the ground.
My teeth shiver betraying my cover,
as my speech is intentional, despite this stutter.

Anxious heart of mine is a flutter,
afraid to finally move on.
And although, I’m ready to go,
I just can’t touch the ground.

More silent than a whisper,
more sacred than all the saints;
the less I have, the less I feel,
until my head remembers it holds a brain.

Running on empty, ambition is my gasoline,

soon it will abandon me, 

and I will need to remember 

the man I was meant to be.

Drowning out of water, 

my lungs fill up with air,
and I let go, count to three and breathe, 

then say a prayer.

"Dear God please let this be,
let my feet finally hit the ground,
Lord, I'm so tired of running,
it hurts so deeply that I can hardly make a sound."

Yesterday has lost its comfort,
the future still fills me with fear,
unless I make peace with my present,
I will just stagnate here.

Caged in a prison 

made of invisible wire,
my own imagination 

is what keeps me locked up.

And so I fight to find the words,
my strength has convinced itself that it is weak;
so I stay staring at shadows,
still too scared to sleep.  

Every corner I encounter,
conceals deeper meanings that I evade,
lessons that I have learned but keep repeating,
call me like voices from beyond the grave.

Forget phantom limbs,
I have a phantom life,
it resonates through the corridors,
the empty halls of my mind.

Silence can be deafening,
when it bounces off buildings and walls,
but all I need is some relief,
and for my feet to touch the ground.

How do I know I haven’t blown my chances,
that my demise has not already arrived?
It can seem so daunting when I play my best hands,
only to continue questioning if I've survived.

Am I in a state of limbo, or is this purgatory?
What have I done to stay trapped inside,
this sanitarium, this senseless factory.
I can feel myself drifting, drifting away from me and you.

Falling too hard and flying,
much too fast to catch myself,
I shoot across the horizon,
then slowly fade from black to blue.

I am a self-fulfilling prophecy of a black hole,
devoured in portions
though none of my parts
can be consoled. 

Aging quicker than 

ever before now,
as the sole of my left foot 

scuffs the soft sandy ground.

Granted another chance 

to make it count,
I will be renewed, instead of wasting time 

just chasing after love.

Slowly I acclimatize until
I am emboldened once again,
this is the part where I jump start my heart,
and hit the ground running.